


Everything is Blue

by DowntimeDrabbles



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 15 year old luke, 20 year old Luke, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Chapter 1 is set before the band, Depression, Hurt Luke, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Luke Centric, Luke's family aren't mega important, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Panic Attacks, Rape, Sad Luke, Underage Drinking, chapter 2 is set now, the band's friendship is just super cute, theyre just kinda there, this is not a happy fic, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5546432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DowntimeDrabbles/pseuds/DowntimeDrabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Each day of the week was harder than the previous, the storm in his stomach escalating into a hurricane. It was a cycle: wake up, go to school, get home and sleep. His mother and father were worried, but he couldn’t bring himself to go downstairs to speak to them. Besides, he had no real explanation as to why he felt so empty, so broken – it’s not like it was… that.<em></em></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Or</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Luke didn't want to go to that party and he didn't want to have sex with that man. But he's a boy and boys can't be raped.</em>
  </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my first fic I've written on here and I'm writing it at 2am when I'm very tired and anxious so sorry if it sucks.
> 
> Trigger warning: this story is about rape and it does briefly mention self harm so please don't read this if you think you'll be triggered!
> 
> This story is inspired by a comment I saw the other day which said that if a man is forced to have sex then it's not rape because they could've fought back and I think that's disgusting - rape is rape, regardless of gender. So I don't agree with Luke's train of thought in this fic - I'm simply highlighting an issue that I feel strongly about.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!  
> (Title from the song Colours by Halsey)

Never before had Luke had this feeling in his stomach, a storm of anxiety and fear ripping away all of the security blankets he’d wrapped around himself. For the past 24 hours he hadn’t left his bedroom, he _couldn't_ leave his bedroom - what if _he_ was here? His mother was becoming worried, he doesn't usually spend this much time alone.

_What’s wrong Luke?_

_Nothing. I’m fine._

And it _was_ nothing. Because he’d bought it on himself. He’d gone to that party when his mum had told him not to. _It’ll only end in tears_ she’d told him. And she was right in a way, but it had ended in so much more than tears.

He hadn’t really wanted to go to the party, but Calum was going and _Michael_ was going, and he desperately wanted to impress Michael, so he _had_ to go. Calum had helped him to sneak out without his parents or brothers noticing and soon he was stood in the middle of a group of people, his throat burning as he drank shot after shot of whatever people handed him.

The hands on his waist had startled him, but he was too drunk to push them away, they were quite comforting actually, in his drunken state. Parties weren’t his scene – he was more of an introvert – but his friends had insisted that he come, despite ditching him within minutes of getting there.

Turning to face the person with a hold on his hips, his bright blue eyes were met with deep brown ones staring down at him, studying his facial features.

_You have beautiful eyes. They remind me of the ocean._

_Thank you._

_You’re cute when you blush._

They’d chatted a little about random things, like music and celebrities, the older boy touching him quite a lot, although he’d been too drunk to recognise the flirting at the time, he’d simply laughed as the boy’s hand travelled up his thigh.

_Dude_ , he was slurring slightly, _don’t do that it tickles!_

When Monday came, he wanted to collapse. He’d stayed in bed since returning home in the early hours of Saturday morning, but he was still exhausted. Dragging himself downstairs to make breakfast, he was met with the faces of two overly happy brothers, which only increased his cravings of his bed.

"That party was awesome! _"_  Calum and Michael ran over to him at the school gates, "Man I was so wasted! _"_ Michael laughed.

"Where’d you disappear to? I didn’t see you all night! _"_ Calum slung an arm around his shoulder, walking in the direction of the school building. He wasn’t sure he could do this.

Each day of the week was harder than the previous, the storm in his stomach escalating into a hurricane. It was a cycle: wake up, go to school, get home and sleep. His mother and father were worried, but he couldn’t bring himself to go downstairs to speak to them. Besides, he had no real explanation as to why he felt so empty, so broken – it’s not like it was… _that_.

Soon it was Friday again, and somehow he was in the middle of a group of people _again_ , because Calum and Michael had dragged him to another party and ditched him at the door _again_. But this time he wasn’t having fun. This time he wasn’t taking shots, he was alone within a crowd of people from school, too many hands touching him, roaming his body and suddenly he was in that _room_ with that _man_ again. Soon he felt a sick sense of de-ja-vu which bought him to his knees in front of the toilet.

He wanted to call out for someone, anyone really; God he didn’t even care if _Michael_ saw him at this point. He was always clingy when he was sick, probably linked to being the youngest of his brothers, but then the track changed and the speakers got louder and he couldn’t hear himself think.

_It’s loud down here, wanna go upstairs and chat properly?_

Another wave of nausea hit him and this time he couldn’t stop. There was nothing left in his stomach but he still couldn’t stop.

_The man was tugging at his shirt, pulling it over his head before ripping off his own. Soon he was_ _hovering over him, strong arms either side of him stopping him from escaping. Warm breath hit his_ _face and he cried out as he felt a fiery pain engulfed him suddenly._

_He didn’t know if it was the fear, shock or alcohol, but something made him forget how to form a sentence. He couldn’t say it, but he didn’t want this. Putting his fists onto the man’s chest, he put all of his strength into pushing the man away, but he wasn’t strong enough._

_C’mon babe, you’ll like it once you get used to it._

_No._

_No._

_No._

_Get off me._

_Stop._

_I don’t want this._

_Stop_

_Please._

_Help me._

All words fell on deaf ears and by the time the man reached his climax, Luke’s voice had become hoarse. Crying out as the man pulled away from him, he’d sobbed uncontrollably. The next 30 minutes were a blur to Luke, but somehow he’d found his clothes and stumbled outside. He hadn’t wanted to walk, he was bleeding and every step sent a sharp pain shooting up his spine, but he’d gotten a lift there with Calum, Michael and an older boy that Michael knew with brown hair and hazel eyes, so there was no other way of getting home.

Somehow he’d made it home and upstairs without collapsing or waking his parents. Sitting in the bathroom that night, he reflected on the way he’d lost his virginity as he stared at the bloody boxers laying on the floor in front of him.

_Only girls are supposed to bleed on their first time._

A week later and he was still pained by the thoughts of that night, which was stupid because it was _only sex_. But he hadn’t wanted it, so maybe it was-

_No_. I wasn’t _that_. It couldn’t be _that_.

"Jack?" He approached his older brother, who always had an answer for him _, "_ If somebody has sex, but they didn’t want to, is that rape?"

"Yes, why? Did it happen to a girl at school? Was it someone you knew? Oh God, Luke you didn’t force anybody did you?"

"No of course not! I don’t even speak to the girls at school, I'd never do that! I just, um, read something."

So maybe it would’ve been _that_ if it had happened to a girl at school. But it happened to _him_ , so it wasn’t.

It couldn’t be _that_ because he’s a _boy_ and he could’ve fought back. It doesn’t matter that the 6-foot-2 man towered over his 5-foot-4 body, or that the man was 22 while he was only 15, he still could’ve - no, _should’ve_ fought back. Because he was a _boy_.

So he had _no reason_ to feel like this. He had _no_ _reason_ to be holding a bottle of pills in his shaking hand. He had _no reason_ to spend hours every evening curled into a ball, hyperventilating in the shower. He had _no reason_ to drag a razor blade across his wrist every night and he had _no reason_ to wake up screaming every morning because of nightmares.

He had no reason. Because it _wasn’t_ _rape_. It couldn’t have been _rape_ , because he was a _boy_.


	2. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the blink of an eye, Luke found himself at 20 years old - travelling the world on his band's second headlining world tour. Sometimes he forgets that he's not a scrawny 15 year old with too many problems to handle anymore. Now he's a man in a band - dealing with everything life throws at him (kinda).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been promising to write a second chapter for almost a year now and this has actually been finished for about 5 months, I just kept on forgetting to post it - sorry! But I hope you enjoy it anyway. 
> 
> Obviously with a story of this nature there is a trigger warning so if you think you'll be triggered by anything in the tags, please don't read.

1 month after the party, Luke's parents finally noticed his dangerous habits when he'd ended up in the hospital.

He hadn't been thinking straight and the phantom pain spreading throughout his body had been overwhelming, resulting in him taking a few too many painkillers in 24 hours.

Jack had been the one to find him. He'd walked into Luke's bedroom, intending to yell at his younger brother for touching his stuff and breaking something, but instead had been met with the sight of a deathly pale Luke struggling to take a breath.

At the hospital the doctors had spoken to his parents as if Luke wasn't _sat right there_ in the hospital bed. Words like overdose, suicide attempt and depression were overused in the conversation, only worrying his parents more - resulting in them quizzing him on his apparent 'depression' for the next 30 minutes.

_I'm not depressed, Mum._

_Luke, you overdosed on painkillers. They found cuts on your arms._ His mother had tears in her eyes as she spoke, staring at him as if he might shatter.

 _You don't have to be ashamed to admit to it. We won't love you any less._ His father had added, looking at his youngest son and wondering where they'd gone wrong. How could they have missed something this big?

_I didn't mean to take that many. I felt ill and didn't keep track of what I was taking. It was an accident, I'm sorry._

The doctors had let him go home the next day but scheduled sessions twice a week with a therapist.

The first thing he noticed when he arrived home was that all of the knives and medication were hidden from his sight, he wondered who could've done it, considering his parents had stayed at the hospital the whole time. Probably Ben, he'd be the only one to think about things like that. But despite their efforts, no one knew about the blade under his bed.

His therapy sessions sucked. The woman - while nice - was so pushy and wouldn't accept Luke's answer of _I'm just sad._

_Normally when 15 year old boys are 'just sad' they don't resort to such extremes._

_Well then I guess I'm not normal._

That was the only time he'd spoken in the sessions. And after 3 weeks of him saying nothing and presenting no new cuts they accepted that he wasn't suicidal and let him stop coming.

His friends had been concerned, obviously. They knew about the overdose and the cuts, but they didn't know the reason behind them - nobody did. The two of them hadn't known how to deal with the situation and didn't know what they could and couldn't say about it. Eventually the three of them decided to go on as normal and ignore the elephant in the room, although Calum and Michael made it their job to watch Luke a little more closely.

A month after he'd been released from hospital, he'd began picking up a few boxes of painkillers from the shop on the walk home from school, becoming reliant on them because his headache just wouldn't go and the storm of anxiety in his stomach wouldn't settle. But his family still weren't letting him take any - so they stayed hidden under his bed, along with his sharpest secret.

Over time Luke stopped taking so many painkillers though, realising that he was well on his way to becoming a drug addict and not wanting that to be added to the growing list of things wrong with him.

The cutting didn't stop.

The blade under his bed came out to play almost every night, dancing across his hips and thighs rather than his wrists. His parents always checked his wrists to see if there were any new marks - they didn't check his legs though, why would they?

Sometimes Luke still feels _his_ hands running across his hips and legs, and all he ever wants to do is cut them away. And maybe if he damages himself enough, nobody will want to touch him again.

6 months after the party, Luke surprised himself by picking up the guitar from the corner of his room. He hadn't played since before that night - it reminded him too much of hope and happiness. Once upon a time he'd wanted to be a rockstar, strumming his guitar while looking up at the Green Day, All Time Low and Blink-182 posters on his walls. Those posters had all disappeared now - he didn't like the feeling of their eyes burning into him when he changed.

But picking up his guitar again felt good. And eventually he found refuge in music - it seemed that singing and strumming along to his favourite songs calmed him down more than the pills and blade ever did. And maybe he found those dreams of touring the world creeping back into his head.

3 months later, he found himself posting covers on YouTube, then Michael and Calum joined and they were a band.

Michael had been the one to find their drummer.

 _Guys this is Ashton, he's like an amazing drummer._ Michael had said, strolling into the living room with an older boy in tow.

Calum had broken down laughing at Ashton's purple T-Shirt, Michael joining in at the look on Ashton's face. Luke figured he should join in, so he put in a few half hearted, fake giggles. He hadn't laughed for 10 months.

Once everyone had calmed down, Ashton had sat next to Luke, smiling at him as Michael rambled about Ashton's drumming skills. Luke couldn't shake the feeling that he knew Ashton from somewhere.

 _Hey don't I know you?_ Calum had wondered, confirming Luke's suspicions.

 _Yeah, he drove us to that party a while back remember?_ Michael replied, flopping onto the sofa next to Luke. The latter was feeling a whirlwind of anxiety stirring in his chest but had somehow been able to hold off the attack until the other three left. Then he retreated to the bathroom for the next few hours, crying until his tears went dry and decorating his legs with new patterns.

The band eventually got bigger and bigger and they'd gotten busier and busier. As time went on Luke had less time to think about _it_ resulting in him virtually giving up the nasty habit.  
  
In the blink of an eye, Luke found himself at 20 years old - travelling the world on his band's second headlining world tour. Sometimes he forgets that he's not that scrawny 15 year old with too many problems to handle anymore. Now he's a man in a band - dealing with everything life throws at him (kinda).

Occasionally he'll wake up from a nightmare about _it_ and he'll slip up with the razor hidden in his bag. Or somebody would touch him a little too close for comfort. But he always tries not to resort to the blade because he knows that it upsets his friends. They all knew, of course, and they knew that he hasn't fully stopped but they didn't judge him for it. Ashton could relate - he'd been in a similar place once upon a time - but that doesn't mean they're comfortable with the idea of their best friend drawing his own blood.

But he still hadn't told anybody about that night because he _knew_ that it wasn't rape.

* * *

 

Luke knew that the car journeys to and from interviews are boring. He'll usually pass the time by listening to music, so he sat with Spotify playing through his earphones, Calum sat next to him scrolling through Twitter, and Michael and Ashton sat in front laughing at a YouTube video.

Rolling his eyes as an advert interrupted the music, Luke stared out the window and cursed himself for not paying for Premium.

Expecting one of the same old adverts, the blond was surprised when he heard an advert that he hadn't heard before. It was boring, as most ads are, and he didn't understand the point until the end.

" _Sex without consent is rape._ "

His heart rate sped up as unwanted memories poisoned his mind. Ripping the earphones out, he closed the app, therefore stopping the ad.

Calum turned to him, raising an eyebrow at his friend's sudden movements. "You okay?" He questioned, scanning his eyes up and down the younger boy worriedly as he noticed the panicked look on his face. "Luke?"

"Yeah... Yeah I'm fine. The music was louder than I expected." He flashed a fake smile, trying to reassure his friend while also calming himself down. He put his phone in his pocket and retreated to staring out the window, trying to calm the panic stirring in his chest without worrying his friends. He repeated a mantra in his head, knowing he would calm any other way.

_Calm down Luke, you already knew that sex when the girl says no is rape, your parents told you that. That advert was talking about girls, you're overreacting just calm down._

~~~

He lied. _Waiting_ for interviews is more boring than the car journey. While usually he'd pass the time the same way - listening to music - he couldn't trust himself and decided to open Twitter instead.

Scrolling through constant tweets from various fans that he followed, he found most of them were about how excited they were for the rest of the tour. Luke was excited too, there was nothing he loved more than the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he pours his heart into performing the songs he created with his best friends.

He continued to scroll, until one tweet stood out. He swore the world was out to get him today - everywhere he turned there was a reminder of that night.

The tweet had a picture attached. A boring picture displaying male and female stick people. The text, however, stood out to him.

 _It doesn't matter if they're a boy or a girl: Rape is rape_  
  
Luke didn't agree with that. In fact he knew that it wasn't true. _Only girls get raped._

But it had a lot of retweets, which meant a lot of other people agreed with it. Old demons were clawing to the surface and he could feel the panic stirring in his chest, the frantic beating of his heart, his breathing getting heavier.

"I'm going to the toilet." A small whisper to explain why he suddenly shot up and ran from the room. Finding the toilet he locked the door with shaking fingers and slid down the wall, trying to calm his breathing.

_Calm down. Calm down. It's not true. It wasn't that, you know it wasn't. It's not true. It's not true. It's not true._

"Luke?" Michael was knocking on the door, probably to tell him that the interview's about to start. "Luke are you okay?"

_Not now, Michael._

"Y-yeah I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine." His voice was worried - that made sense, Luke supposed, his mentally unstable friend had just ran off with no explanation, looking on the verge of a panic attack.

"Michael, I'm okay." He stood, unlocking the door and stepping out so his best friend could see how fine he was.

"You've been crying." _Shit_. "C'mon I'll help you clean your face up." Michael whispered.

This is why Michael was Luke's best friend. Because while there was always a silent worry, Michael wouldn't push Luke to talk about things like Calum or Ashton would. Michael knows that Luke doesn't like to talk about things, so instead he just helps to clean up the aftermath.

"C'mon," Michael said quietly once Luke's face was no longer blotchy, "The interview's about to start."

~~~

Luke hated this feeling. It was all too familiar and reminded him of whose dark days when he was a teenager.

"How are you feeling?" Ashton slowly came into the room, sitting on the edge of Luke's bed and placing a hand against Luke's forehead.

The blond didn't answer, he just continued to stare at the wall. It was good that they were on a break because Luke hadn't left his room in 4 days.

"I'm worried about you Lukey, we all are."

He'd had told his bandmates that he was sick. They all knew it was a lie.

"If you ever need to talk, we're all here, okay? You can talk to any of us about anything." The older boy ran a hand through Luke's pillow-ruffled hair and stood. Just as he got to the door he heard the faint sound of Luke calling his name.

"I wanna tell you but it's embarrassing." Luke whispered.

Ashton made his way back to the bed, sitting next to Luke and letting the younger boy lean against him, cuddling up in the same way Ashton used to with his siblings.

"Whatever it is, don't be embarrassed. You can tell me anything, Lukey." His voice was quiet, careful. Luke recognised it as the 'big brother voice' - he'd heard Ashton use it on his brother and sister, as well as Luke's own brothers using it on him.

"I keep on seeing things," he began to explain, struggling to put it into words to begin with but finding himself unable to stop once he began, "Things telling me the opposite of what I thought. I... It happened years ago and I overreacted and did stupid things because of it and I knew that it wasn't that because I'm a boy but..." Tears swam in his ocean blue eyes and he looked up at Ashton, who looked both confused and worried.

"Luke... You're not making sense, what happened?"

"I... that party we all went to. Before you joined the band, you drove us there?" Anxiety was bubbling to the surface.

"Yeah I remember, you were a scrawny 15 year old too scared to speak to me." Ashton laughed.

Luke blushed, remembering how awkward he'd been. "Cal and Michael ditched me as soon as we got in there and I was pretty bored but there was this guy, he was loads older than me, but he kept on giving me drinks. I was really drunk and he seemed really nice. We, um... We went upstairs and- and he took my clothes off," his voice became strained, little sobs escaping.

"Luke you don't have to carry on-" Ashton tried to say, knowing how hard it must be for the blond to speak about, but Luke cut him off.

"I kept on telling him to stop but he wouldn't. And it _hurt_. It hurt so much, Ash."

The blond buried his face into Ashton's shirt, the latter wrapping his arms around the younger boy while still trying to process the information. How could that have happened to Luke? To small, innocent, 15 year old Luke?

"Is that," Ashton gently rested a hand on the few faded marks on Luke's arms. "Is that why you have these?"

"Y-yeah."

Ashton noticed that there weren't very many scars on his wrists, and they all looked a few years old. Looking closely at Luke's face he could see the pain and shame dusting across his features

"That's not all of them, is it?"

"It- it helped so I couldn't stop and... And mum kept on checking my arms so, so I did it on my hips instead."

That explained it. Why Luke was so self conscious, why he wouldn't walk around naked or in his boxers like the rest of them would.

"How long did you do it for?" Ashton's voice was quiet and calm, knowing that anything other wouldn't give Luke confidence to admit to his demons.

"Until I was 17."

Ashton pulled the younger boy closer, wrapping his arms around him, hoping to protect him from the world. Luke's crying escalated, Ashton's shirt was almost soaked through - he didn't care though.

"Why didn't you tell anyone, Lukey?" Ash whispered, the room was silent apart from Luke's sobbing, it felt wrong to speak any louder.

"I- 'cause it- it was only sex. I-I thought when it first happened that... B-but it wasn't that 'cause I'm a boy. That's what I thought but I keep seeing things online and-" he turned his big, tear-filled blue eyes to stare into Ashton's, a tragic mix of innocence and agony dancing across his features, "It... it wasn't that was it? I mean... That only happens to girls..."

"Oh, Luke. I'm so sorry." Ashton pulled Luke into a hug as the younger boy began to cry harder, the realisation after all of these years sinking in that he was raped.

~~~

Luke had mostly calmed down, although he'd been wrapped in Ashton's embrace for an hour. They were silent, Luke liked listening to Ashton's steady breathing to remind him that he was still there. He still had someone.

"We need to tell the other two." Ashton whispered, feeling as though speaking louder would interrupt their peace.

"Can you? I don't..."

"Don't worry, I'll tell them. You stay here alright?" Ashton gently pulled away from the younger boy, slipping out the door quietly. How would he explain this to them?

Luke didn't know how long he was waiting. Once Ashton had left, the blond had pulled the cover up over his head and cried quietly into the pillow.

He'd spent years - 5 years convincing himself that it wasn't that, convincing himself that he was overreacting. And now he didn't know how to feel, now that he'd admitted that he'd been raped.

The door opened again, Luke didn't look up but he heard it. He felt the bed dip as whoever it was climbed into bed next to him.

The duvet was pulled from his head but he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to face anyone. He was _embarrassed_.

The other person pulled him gently into a hug, against his chest. It was Michael, he knew from the way he ran his fingers gently through his hair.

He didn't realise that he made a noise, but he must've whimpered as Michael shushed him gently.

He felt Calum climb into bed behind them, resting his chin onto Luke's arm.

Ashton joined them at some point, the didn't really speak about it, although Luke knew they would at one point. They were okay just hugging. They didn't mind when Luke started crying, they held him closer and whispered comforting words.

Luke didn't know what would happen next, if he'd tell his parents or not. He knew that Ashton would probably make him see a therapist, he supposed that would probably help. But what he did know was that he had his best friends, and they'd always be there for him.

When he was leaning heavily on Michael, almost asleep, he heard a faint whisper, it sounded choked, like the person was crying.

"We'll never leave you again. I promise."

And Luke finally, for the first time in 5 years, felt safe.


End file.
